


The Thirty-Something Years of Half Jobs

by Star_Crow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Harvard University, Living Together, New York City, Swearing, Wedding Fluff, doctor!clarke, lawyer!bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-09 18:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11110746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Crow/pseuds/Star_Crow
Summary: “Where are we going to get a priest for a wedding ceremony in a day?”“This is New York, remember.”"Right."





	1. The Big Deal

“Clarke, have we become that couple?”

“What couple? You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

“The couple that gets engaged but never actually gets married.”

Clarke and Bellamy had had a normal little love affair, nothing to sing ballads or write books about. They’d met at high school. Clarke had always considered herself the smartest person in any class. That was until the Blakes came to town. Bellamy became her first deskmate since Wells had died the previous year.

In a typical love story, here’s the part with immediate connection and heart eyes.

Instead, there begun the infamous Griffin-Blake rivalry. 

If Clarke got 38 out of 40 on a pop quiz, Bellamy would get 39. Clarke would deliberately trigger fiercely-whispered arguments with him, only for Bellamy to diffuse it with a slick quote he had up his sleeve. Clarke Griffin had met her match, the whole school would snigger when they walked past to their desks.

Clarke found the teasing merciless, especially when she did indeed find her arch-frenemy somewhat attractive. To extra embarrassment, her mom approved, too.

She'd been stuck with him at college, too. Not in the same classes, thank God, but it seemed that the universe still found ways to force them together. You could fucking bet that whenever Clarke went to the cafeteria, the only free lunch table would be occupied by Bellamy. They stayed in touch.

She thought she would be finally leaving Bellamy Blake behind when she got her acceptance letter to Harvard Med School. Only to find out the next day that Bellamy had received one to the Law School, too.

Two degrees, two graduations, a shared apartment, many semi-romantic dinner dates, and seven extra years later, Clarke found herself engaged to be a Blake herself with Bellamy next to her in bed, rather than at a desk.

Not that the rivalry had ever completely ended.

Clarke sat up against the headboard. Her clock said 07:53. “You want to get married?”

“I’m not in any rush,” His voice was muffled by the pillow he had pressed to his face. “I’m just saying. We’ve been together for eleven years now, engaged for six of those, and we’ve never even looked at a date.”

“Yeah well, we’ve never been exactly fast to do anything romantic, have we? Took you all of first year at uni to ask me out.”

“Don’t bring up my awkward nineteen-year-old romantic ineptitudes. I had no father figure to teach me any moves for the ladies until your mom started dating Kane. Worry not, I’m smooth as cream cheese on a bagel now.”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. “You wish. I just came to find your nerdiness attractive by overexposure. You wore me down over the years, I think.”

Bellamy huffed, rolling from his stomach onto his back. “I think you’d make me a beautiful bride.”

He was distracted, groaning as he stretched his limbs and flipped his hair from his eyes but Clarke’s stomach fluttered still. It always did when he said anything even remotely intimate. In this aspect, Clarke was more a taker than a giver.

“You’d be an okay groom,” she winked, watching him push the covers away as he swung his legs out of bed.

“Thanks, babe. I’m flattered.”

Bellamy had grown even more appealing in his thirties. He was broader, more muscular. He didn’t gel his hair anymore, rather letting it grow out thicker, like the stubble on his face. More freckles had come in across his shoulders and at the top of his spine. He’d been working on his ass, too, if Clarke was anyone to judge by feeling. 

Clarke yawned as she picked up her glass. “You’re the lawyer. Apply for a marriage license. We’ll go to the city clerk’s office. Get the license. Wait the twenty-four hours, then do the ceremony.”

Bellamy paused in clinching his belt. “You want to get married this week?”

“Well, why not?”

“Where are we going to get a priest for a wedding ceremony in a day?”

“This is New York, remember.”

“Right,” Bellamy snorted. “But what about everything else? Where are we going to do this? Who are we going to invite? Who’s actually going to make it? There’s tons of things to consider, Clarke. Weddings take years to plan. Look how hard we worked on Octavia and Lincoln’s gig. We have no rings, no dresses for you or any bridesmaids. What about the catering the cake, music, flowers, all that shit? A honeymoon-”

“We’ll just go to the cabin for a week or so. No big deal. We don’t need to have a big ceremony or anything. We’re just making what we’ve already got official, right?” Clarke shrugged, taking a sip of water.

When she turned to look at him, Clarke had never seen such a solemn look on her partner’s face. There was a look in his eyes that she didn’t quite like. Pity, maybe.

“It is a big deal, Clarke. I want it to be,” He knelt before and reached for her hands, entwining them in her lap. “I want you to have your big white wedding, with everyone we love there.”

“Bellamy, our whole life up till this point has been half-jobs. The whole wedding idea is just one of many, ” she squeezed his hand tightly. “Buying a house. Getting another pet. Going on holiday. Changing jobs. God, how many times have we seriously talked about having a baby, but never actually got me off the pill? 

Something in Bellamy’s eyes flickered. He wanted that. Badly.

“For once, let’s see something through and get married. I don’t care whether it’s just you and me, or my whole fucking Facebook friends list and extended family. I just want to marry you, Bellamy.”

“I want to marry you, too.”

Clarke smirked, sticking her ring finger up at him. “Obviously.”

The next thing she knew, Bellamy was kissing her. His hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back down on the bed beneath him. His skin was so hot against hers, burning like a fire. Clarke pushed his unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders, as Bellamy did the rest for her. 

Bellamy Blake, the ever-constant enabler of sexual encounters.

Octavia was going to have to settle in at the airport because her ride was sure as hell going to be late.


	2. Not the Deuce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding in less than twenty four hours. He was fucking crazy, but his friends, his family; they were, too. 
> 
> If anyone could pull this shit off, it was them.

“Don’t freak out but I need to tell you something important,” 

“Okay, big brother. Hit me,”

Bellamy still struggled to believe that the little girl he’d carried around on his back was now the young woman that sat in the passenger seat on his truck. Not just a young woman; a wife and a mom, too. And a kickass martial arts teacher. Now, it was his niece, Amei, that liked to cling to his shoulders for rides. 

Octavia was jet-lagged, slumped in the seat like marionette cut from its strings. Her job took her on awesome business trips that Bellamy had always been envious of. Tokyo, this time. Her hair was down and limp, eyes shadowed, and her skin waxy. 

The news she was about to receive would soon wake her up.

“O,” Bellamy took a deep breath in, hands clenched on the steering wheel. “Clarke and I are going to get married.”

He’d been expecting an excited squeal, her hands to fly to her mouth in shock. Instead, he got an eyeroll reminiscent of her teens. “Well yeah, you two have been engaged for what . . . six years now?”

Bellamy suddenly felt ridiculous, his skin turning hot. Octavia and Lincoln had married in less than a year of the proposal.

“No. I mean like we’re actually going to get married,” he emphasised. “As in been to the city clerk’s office, planning it as we speak, getting married.”

He’d finally got his sister’s attention. Her eyes snapped away from her phone. “Shut up. No, you’re not.”

Bellamy couldn’t help but smirk at the look of utter disbelief on Octavia’s face.

“Yes, yes we are.”

Then came the excited squeal. Twenty four years old and bouncing up and down in her seat. “Oh my god, really? You swear? Clarke’s gonna be my sister-in-law?”

He just nodded in return, starting the engine of his truck as Octavia naturally begun to freak out.

“My brother’s getting married, at last. When does Clarke want to go dress shopping? The place I got mine from is lovely. I’ll take her. Is she having bridesmaids? I’ve never been a bridesmaid before, Bell. Lincoln can take you to get a suit. You said he was going to be your best man when you first got engaged, right? I can’t believe this, I can’t-”

Bellamy grinned like a maniac as he listened to his sister babble excitedly. In this moment, he wondered why he and Clarke had waited so damn long in the first place. Octavia seem to come to the same thought.

“So what set things in motion after all this time?” Octavia cocked her head to the side before her eyes widened even more. “Is Clarke pregnant?”

Bellamy just snorted at her assumption, but somewhere deep down, he wished it were true. “No, no. One step at a time, O.”

“Jesus, Bellamy. You’re like 30 already. Learn to run or you’ll seize up,” Octavia laughed, putting her arm out of the window.

Next came the part of the conversation he’d been dreading.

“So when’s the big day?”

He could feel his heart speed us a little in his chest, the blood pumping faster. Octavia was going to be doing a different kind of freaking out when he told her. It took Bellamy three goes of opening and closing his mouth before the fatal word escaped him.

“Tomorrow.”

“Very funny, Bellamy. Fucking tomorrow.”

There was a long silence. Bellamy kept his eyes on the freeway and refused the urge to look at his sister. 

“Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“Yep.”

“What the fuck?” Octavia sat back in her seat. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Typical Bellarke thing to do, if ever I saw it.”

Bellamy sighed at the old moniker that the other kids used for him and Clarke back in high school. It drove Clarke up the wall and everyone knew it so inevitably, it was never going to die.

“Where are you going to have it?” she asked after a moment of contemplation.

“Monty’s place.”

Bellamy and Clarke were damn lucky in that they happened to be best friends with Monty Green. Monty ran a restaurant on Central Park. The rent cost him a pretty penny but it also gave him a small section of land. A really nice bit, too. Enough room for a wedding ceremony for sure. 

“Clarke wants you to be her bridesmaid. Raven and Amei, too. I’m taking you back to our place now so you three can sort things out. Or atleast that’s what she told me. And yes, I do want Linc to be my best man.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy could see his sister recovering from her shock, regaining her posture.

“Want me to call him for you?”

Bellamy did the same, sitting up a little straighter in the driver’s seat. A wedding in less than twenty four hours. He was fucking crazy, but his friends, his family; they were, too. 

If anyone could pull this shit off, it was them.

“Call Lincoln.”

 

_______________________________________________

 

“A wedding in a day? Wow, Griffin. I didn’t know you had it in you to be this ballsy. Did you have like really great sex last night or-”

“Stop there, I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to hear the end of that sentence.” 

If there was anyone that Clarke could rely on to bring her thudding back down to Earth, it was Raven Reyes and Octavia Blake. Bellamy could be brutal, but he was nothing compared to them. Her mom had tried to stop her from hanging out with them in high school. A bad influence on her, she’d said. But when Raven and Octavia had climbed the tree in her backyard to get into her bedroom, she’d given up. The girls had tended to use the Griffin’s front door from then on. 

The Griffin-Blake-Reyes triumvirate, as Bellamy called it, was fucking unstoppable. 

“So, where are we going to acquire a wedding dress that fits Clarke perfectly, looks gorgeous, is affordable, and has equally nice accessories?” Raven asked, tipping the last dregs of red wine down her neck. “Also, we need dresses for me, O and Amei.”

“Suits for the boys, too.” Octavia pointed out.

“Leave that to Bell and Lincoln. That’s their responsibility.” Clarke ruled, breaking the seal on a fresh bottle.

“Still leaves us with the dress problem.” O lent back against the pillows of Bellamy and Clarke’s couch.

In her peripherals, Clarke could see Raven sizing her up. Guesstimating her height. Dark eyes roving over the width of her waist, torso, thighs and breasts. Wasn’t exactly new. She had a short history with Raven, before she had Bellamy and Raven had Luna.

“See something you like, Reyes?”

“Oh, I’m taken and so are you. There’s a reason for me checking you out,” Raven smirked back at her, refilling her glass. “Leave the dresses to me. I know a guy. For me, he’ll fit us today.”

Clarke’s eyebrows quirked up. “Here’s where you tell me that this place is in the Deuce.”

Octavia coughed out a poorly-hidden laugh behind her hand. Raven alternated between scowling at the pair of them. 

“I’ll have you know that this is a very legit establishment I’m talking about here. That thing with the Deuce was on like one night out. You guys fucking loved it. Give me a break,” Reyes retorted indignantly. “Anyway, you remember Kyle Wick from senior year?”

The Blake girl snorted. “If that scumbag is the fitter, you’ll have to drag me in there kicking and screaming.”

“Ditto. It’s his sister, Paige, that runs the business. She’s cool. Personally thanked me when I dumped her brother’s ass. Said I could call in a favor when I needed it.”

“So you know a girl?”

“I do.”

“Raven Reyes,” Clarke raised her glass. “You are a godsend.”

“Bow down, bitches, to the Reyes power,” 

“I can do our make-up and hair and stuff, easy. Amei can help. She loves all that.” 

“So we have outfits sorted. Venue and times set. Guests have been invited. Kane’s letting us use his Porsche to get there,” Clarke ticked off on her fingers.

“Monty’s handling the feasting. Jasper on the discs,” Raven said.

“Linc has the rings.” Octavia added.

“Got a priest?”

“Yeah. Please don’t ask where.”

“Should we be concerned?”

“Probably but we’ll leave it for now.”

“That leaves a nice, hot honeymoon for the lovers.” Raven and Octavia waggled their brows at each other suggestively. Clarke was too resigned to berate them, or even cringe.

“Bellamy’s adamant he’s handling the honeymoon.”

Bellamy and Clarke didn’t go abroad that often. They were in well-paying jobs with no children and a small apartment to upkeep; money was no object, really. It was the time aspect. Clarke worked ungodly hours around the clock at Ark Medical. Doctors were in short supply. Lawyers weren’t so much, but Bellamy the Harvard Graduate was fucking great at his job. Clarke would often wake up in the night to an empty bed, only to find Bellamy passed out at his desk with yet another case under him.

A holiday would be good for them.

Octavia grinned, examining her flawlessly manicured nails. “We’ve got this made, girls.”

“Well,” Raven yawned, stretching her arms. “The bride stays with her maids the night before the wedding, Clarke, You’re gonna have to turf your dearly beloved out to stay with one of his boys.”

“I’m sure he’ll go quietly.” Clarke said, pulling out her phone to deliver him the news.

Raven set her glass down on the coffee table with a loud chink before jumping to her feet, as though propelled by a spring.

“Ladies, let’s go and get our dresses for the long-awaited Bellarke wedding!”

Octavia was up in a second, too, cheering with Raven. 

Clarke just sighed.

Fucking Bellarke.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a oneshot but who knows, I leave everything open really so stay tuned!


End file.
